


to sleep

by tenkaede



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Polyamory, Trans Amami Rantaro, Trans Saihara Shuichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenkaede/pseuds/tenkaede
Summary: “Tell you what,” Amami says, free hand making slow movements for the book. “I’ll check this out later, see if it’s a language that Korekiyo or I might know, and… see if we could read it to you. Maybe it’ll be as fascinating being spoken as it is written.”Saihara doesn’t waste a moment in letting Amami take it, and feels the smile beginning to tug at his own lips. “Being read to… like a baby?”“Like our boyfriend,” comes the scoff, and Saihara waits for a noogie or ruffled hair, but it doesn’t come. One of Amami’s hands maintains its grip on the book, and the other doesn’t untangle from Saihara’s.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi/Shinguji Korekiyo, Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Saihara Shuichi/Shinguji Korekiyo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 178





	to sleep

Saihara doesn’t notice him until he presses his lips to the nape of his neck.

A small surprise in the form of warmth, Saihara doesn’t startle much. As foreign as sudden affection still is, there’s only two people that could possibly be the culprit to the crime, and he trusts them with his life. It’s not something he’s said aloud, but it’s no exaggeration. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out who it is once the boy’s voice fills Saihara’s ears, low and fatigue-riddled despite all of its smoothness. 

“Hey,” Amami murmurs, “what are you reading?” 

The tiniest of chuckles bubbles from Saihara’s chest before he can help it, and then there’s arms around his stomach. Careful, gentle, as he’s slowly pulled against Amami’s chest. The book in his hand lowers. 

“I,” Saihara says, “don’t know if it still counts as reading, if it’s in a language that I don’t understand.” And then, a quiet admission, “I took this without asking. I’m sorry.” 

A chin rests atop his shoulder as Amami looks over to peer at the reading material - it certainly isn’t of Japanese origin, and it pulls a thoughtful hum from his throat. He rests his mouth against Saihara’s neck, and the vibrations send sparks of warmth down his skin. Maybe the heat will match his cheeks. 

“You don’t have to ask to borrow things like that,” Amami hums, “actually, I - that one might be Korekiyo’s.” 

“Ah? Really?” 

“Mhm.” 

Oh, he should have known. Sometimes, it’s… hard to figure out which trinkets and items from travels are things that Amami has picked up, or things that Shinguuji has acquired. The chin rests on his shoulder again, but Amami doesn’t demand his eye contact. 

In a moment of silence, Saihara notes the lack of tension in Amami’s hands. It’s another one of those things that he’ll never get the nerve to say out loud, but he always used to note how stiff the boy’s physical affection was - someone unused to such a thing, or someone uncomfortable with it. Maybe it was both. 

But Amami’s hands, calloused and soft and rough and firm all at the same time, are relaxed against Saihara’s clothes. Even when he lets one hand slip from the book to tangle their fingers together, the affection makes him want to melt into the way that there’s no flinch, no jolt, no tension. It’s something so small, but it’s one of the greatest joys that Saihara knows. 

Outside of the apartment, the siren of an ambulance echoes in the rustling of lazy wind. 

“Tell you what,” Amami says, free hand making slow movements for the book. “I’ll check this out later, see if it’s a language that Korekiyo or I might know, and… see if we could read it to you. Maybe it’ll be as fascinating being spoken as it is written.” 

Saihara doesn’t waste a moment in letting Amami take it, and feels the smile beginning to tug at his own lips. “Being read to… like a baby?”

“Like our boyfriend,” comes the scoff, and Saihara waits for a noogie or ruffled hair, but it doesn’t come. One of Amami’s hands maintains its grip on the book, and the other doesn’t untangle from Saihara’s. 

Even when he pulls away, book in hand, the hand around Saihara’s doesn’t falter. The urge to chase Amami’s warmth is almost overwhelming, but he turns to watch as Amami grins at him, instead.

God, does Saihara love that smile. Completely unguarded and free of the faux-calm that Amami is so well-versed in, it doesn’t take much to idly wonder how that smile would react to a kiss. 

“Korekiyo wanted to know if you’re coming to bed. To be honest, so do I.” Amami says, book held to his chest. “I’m just taking this as a bonus.” 

Kissing him aside, Saihara raises an eyebrow at the words. “Is it that late?” For Shinguuji to already be in bed, as the one most infamous for being awake at inappropriate times… well, the implications aren’t lost there. “Ah, did I worry you?” 

Another hum. It’s music to Saihara’s ears, and the warmth on his hand feels like a blessing. “Ah, I’m gonna have to be honest with you again, Shuuichi. We’re a little concerned, this time.” Even so, the affectionate light in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Is your binder off, yet?” 

That’s a good question. From anyone else, the question might have made him stiffen. Deflect a little. Look for a way out of telling them something that they don’t want to hear. 

“No,” Saihara admits. Amami’s smile fades, and it takes some internal reminders that he’s only concerned before continuing. “I guess I should… come to bed now, then. You or Korekiyo can help me take it off.” 

“Stripping for us?” 

“You’d hate it if I made that kind of joke about you.” 

“Right, right.” If Amami spies the furious heat on Saihara’s cheeks, then there’s no comment on it. “But I’m not the one that’s ruining my ribs, Shuu. Mine’s been off for ages.” 

Ah, the concern is a lot more audible, now. Whether it’s on purpose or not, Saihara can’t tell, but his response would be the same regardless. “I’m sorry that I made you worry about me, Rantarou.” He squeezes his hand. 

“Hm,” is how Amami replies. His head tilts to the side. It’s almost pretty, when some of that vibrant hair falls into his eyes, and in his thoughts, it takes Saihara off-guard when Amami pulls him closer to plant a kiss onto his forehead. “Make it up to me by coming to bed?” 

“Yes,” Saihara says quickly. “Besides, if you said that Korekiyo’s waiting…” 

“They’re missing you,” Amami explains. Saihara almost begins to feel guilty before he adds, “you’ve been gone for years, Shuu. The bedroom’s been too empty with just the two of us. You know how bony Korekiyo is, right? It’s not the same when I can’t have you next to me. I need some kind of protection against their bare limbs.” 

The softness of Amami’s voice makes the joke come out deadpan, and that almost makes it sillier, Saihara finds, when he has to cover his mouth as his shoulders begin to shake. “That’s - you’re saying that you need me around as… a meat shield? Is that it?” 

“I think I like you better as a meat shield in our room over a meat shield that’s wandering around in the living room with crushed ribs and a book that isn’t even in our language. Seriously, Shuuichi, how are you not sore?” A pause. “C’mon.” 

Saihara only has the time to shrug at the question before Amami begins to lead him to their shared room. Once the lights are flicked off, their footsteps seem horribly loud in the silence - even bare feet against the floor echo in the darkness. 

But he’s not afraid. He could never be afraid, when Amami’s holding onto his hand. He definitely can’t be afraid when it’s Shinguuji that greets them at the door, mask off, bandages abandoned. 

“Our lost prince has returned,” is what they purr, hand brushing against Saihara’s shoulder when they step inside. “I almost believed that the lure of wandering a silent apartment would take him completely.” 

Amami chuckles, even when Saihara explains, “I was just in the living room, Korekiyo. I lost track of the time, that’s all. I’m not going anywhere. Wandering anywhere.” Of course, he could always point out the hypocrisy in the statement - that, despite all of their horrible sleeping habits, Saihara is the best of them. 

He doesn’t, and as Amami lets go of his hand to wander over to the bed, Korekiyo cups his face with their hands. Their skin, unbandaged and scarred, is such a foreign feeling that it takes all of Saihara’s willpower to fight against melting into the touch. He suspects that Korekiyo will see his inner conflict, though, no matter how hard he fights against it. 

“You should be more careful, Shuuichi.” As Amami’s voice is a low hum, Shinguuji’s is a strange sort of rasp that rattles against Saihara’s ears. “There are countless stories and recounts of spirits taking those that wander too far into the darkness. Of course, the credibility of it all... “ 

“I had the light on. I wasn’t in the darkness. But,” Saihara says, one hand rising to wrap around one of Shinguuji’s wrists. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” He lowers his voice as one of Shinguuji’s hands brushes hair from his eyes. “Rantarou told me you missed me.” 

“Oh, more than you could ever imagine.” 

And that’s when Shinguuji kisses him. Only for a moment, but Saihara’s chest starts to pound, even when he chases their lips as they move away, and a thumb gently swipes over his lips. 

Why Shinguuji applies lipstick, even before going to bed, is just one of the little mysteries that makes up who they are. One of the many that Saihara has learned not to question. 

“You’re finally coming to bed with us, then?” Shinguuji questions. 

Saihara breathes, “yeah.” Ah, maybe the kiss had stolen more of his voice than he thought it had.

There’s a pause. 

Amami’s voice rings out, “not before you get that binder off, you’re not.” 

Oh. Saihara had almost forgotten. Again. “Oh, I--” Shinguuji lets him pull away. “You’re right, I almost forgot again, I need to--” His fingers grip at the end of his shirt. “It’ll be easier if one of you helps me.” 

Shinguuji says, “oh!” 

And then, “you’re stripping for us, then?” 

Amami makes a bark of surprised laughter, and Saihara chokes. 

Of all the times for his partners to share the same thoughts…

**Author's Note:**

> i broke my femslash streak for this noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 
> 
> (tumblr is @tenkokaedes though ;) )


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